


Yellow is the color...

by Hysilvinia



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22500295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hysilvinia/pseuds/Hysilvinia
Summary: Idyllic village life, Jack dreams of more
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 8
Kudos: 61





	Yellow is the color...

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I realize it was all a dream, but O'Neill's comment about Atlantis being a mediocre Donovan song in that one episode gave me this idea based on another Donovan song that Jack might know, Colors. 
> 
> Sometime during the early Pete days

*Yellow is the color of my true love's hair, in the morning, when we rise....*

He'd woken up early, but it was hard to tell with the short nights and very long days in this area on this planet at this time of year. Like the near Arctic latitudes on Earth in the summer, it was dark for only a couple of hours. The morning sun was softly streaming in the window, across Carter's sleeping face. The rosiness of the pink dawn warmed him and he allowed himself to reflect on the song lyrics that came into his mind. 

Admitting- even to himself- that he loved her, was dangerous. Especially here, with just a few inches of coarse linen mattress between them. Here, in a farming village where the locals believed they were married, and no one would care at all if the couple occupying the traveler's cottage went at it early on a lovely summer morning. 

He pushed that thought away. 

They'd been trapped on this planet for a couple of weeks. The Gate had inexplicably stopped working after Teal'c and Daniel has gone back on what was supposed to be a brief trip to gather some more anthropological materials to translate some petroglyphs on the nearby sea cliff. 

Carter had figured out what made the Gate unable to dial during the first afternoon they'd been trapped, but there was nothing they could do about it. It was something about the geomagnetic forces, orbits, the extra moons... Anyway, no one could dial in or out. But her calculations showed that it was cyclical, so they just had to wait something like 60 days for it all to align back up again. 

In the meantime, the villagers were very welcoming. It was a rich, bountiful late summer and the combination of ripe crops in the fields, plentiful foraging in the woods, and animal pasturing in the wild meadows made food abundant. Carter and O'Neill helped harvest tubers, thresh grain, pick berries, gather fallen wood, or herd goats in the high pastures for a few hours each day. None of the villagers seemed to have all that much work to do, and every night the singing and dancing and laughing started well before the dusk, after a communal afternoon meal.

*...Green is the color of the sparkling corn, in the morning when we rise. *

The cottage was as idyllic as the village, after an initial sweeping and dusting anyway. A rope bed with a mattress stuffed with sweet smelling hay, terracotta wash basins and water jugs. They'd given in to the change of clothes provided, made of light, soft linen; a belted tunic and pants for each of them. Plus a shift to sleep in.

He focused his eyes on Carter's shift's gathered neckline inches from his face, then on her long, slender neck. There was a freckle on her shoulder he couldn't usually see, just under the hand-sewn hem. With her sleeping on her side facing away from him, he let himself look at her in a way he normally would not. 

Sharing a bed was no big deal. As kind as the villagers were, once the issue of housing had come up, Daniel had suggested they go along with the villagers' assumption that Jack and Sam were married. Otherwise Sam would have been separated out, sleeping in the single women's long-house, which they'd learned from experience was not an ideal situation. So they shared the cottage and the bed and it was totally fine. Totally fine. He let his hand slip around her waist under the blanket, inching just a little closer to her. 

Only 45 more days... They just had to maintain the status quo for six and a half more weeks. He sighed. He knew he'd never do anything that would risk her career or their relationship. He knew she felt the same way. But that didn't mean he didn't think about it. He let his eyes close and inhaled the smell of her hair mixed with the linen smell of the blanket and the sweet earthy smell of the bed. He imagined grabbing onto her waist more firmly, pulling her towards him, putting his arms on either side of her underneath him and putting his mouth on hers. 

He wanted to kiss her, to run his hands through her hair and feel her pressed close. He knew if he did this, she would melt against him. She'd give in to his kiss, put her arms around him, and arch her hips against his. 

Sometimes, here, he'd almost lose himself just looking at her sitting across the communal table from him. Watching her blue eyes sparkling, her earth-shatteringly beautiful smile. The comfortable glances she gave him that made him feel warm all over. He was in trouble. More than usual.

She was the strong one, he thought. Maybe it was partly her ingrained insecurity, but he figured he could count on her to get them through this without doing anything stupid. Something like he was currently imagining. Their hands pulling at each other's night clothes, casting them aside, then smoothing across each other's naked bodies. He'd cup one breast, kissing from her neck down to her other nipple. She'd gasp and close her eyes, her checks pink. Her fingers would dig into his back as he'd move his mouth down farther to her stomach, teasing her with kisses until he made his way down her body to gently push her knees apart. He'd settle his face between her legs and work through her wet folds with his mouth and tongue, her heavy breaths and gasps making his cock twitch achingly. 

Opening his eyes, he shuffled a few inches away from Carter's back side, a little embarrassed about his lack of self control and the raging erection she'd probably notice if she happened to wake up now. But his thoughts drifted again. She'd stop him before her could make her come. She'd pull him back up to kiss her, and he'd hold her wrists down on either side of her as he'd press his body against her, kissing her mouth, her neck, her shoulder. She'd wrap her legs around him, muttering "oh...sir..." and she'd tell him she wanted him and he wouldn't be able to hold back. 

As he imagined the head of his cock finding her slick center and slowly pressing himself into her, he rolled onto his back in the bed and grasped himself with a low groan. He felt hot, imagining her soft yet strong underneath him, losing themselves in each other. He tried not to make to much noise or shake the bed as he desperately moved his hand on his cock, imagining he was thrusting into her, making her gasp and twist her hands into the sheets above her head.

He wanted to see her face when she came, and he imagined she would throw her head back and clench her jaw as he roughly rocked into her over and over with his marble-hard erection. She'd moan and call out, then involuntarily shudder with a breathless gasp as her orgasm blossomed and he would follow a moment later, groaning in answer as he ejaculated his hot seed deep into her, their thrusting motions slowing to a stop. Picturing her flushed and sated, her vagina dripping with his come, he bit back a gasp and came into his own hand. 

After catching his breath and letting the floating feeling pass, he cleaned himself up. He was suddenly infinitely glad Carter had not heard him or woken up. Then he quietly, carefully sidled up behind her again, putting a hand on her side and nestling his face almost against the back of her head. They had a few more hours to sleep, despite the rising sun. 

Falling back into sleep, he thought more rationally. He just had to hold himself together and get them home. Get her home. Even if it was home to that doofus of a boyfriend. You couldn't really blame him, could you? Of course he'd jump at a chance to woo Carter, who wouldn't? Jack had a feeling it wasn't over between him and Sam, yet. He'd let her go if it would make her happy. But he thought they both knew deep down, it was Jack and not Pete that could do that. He could wait; what's another year or two or three? He sighed and closed his eyes, let his arm tighten just a little around her. He'd try not to enjoy this castaway experience too much. 45 more days.


End file.
